Double Spied
by SpaghettiGirl
Summary: "And this is the young man you must watch out for. He has been sent to spy on you, and now the Madrigals are sending you to spy on him."
1. Chapter 1

If there was anything Hope Cahill hated more than Vespers, it was waiting. It was a complete waste of her time and energy, and nevermind the fact that waiting _wasn't _burning calories so it didn't really take up her energy and her previous statement made no sense, but that was okay because none of her thoughts made much sense these days, and wait, what did Grace want her to do again and oh, maybe Grace was right when she said she had been a scatterbrain lately but seriously, what right did she have to tell her-

She blinked.

Wait, what was she going on about again?

The sound of automatic sliding doors from behind her caused her to jump and turn around, adopting a somewhat defensive stance.

She breathed a sigh of a relief when a familiar chuckling voice filled the room.

"A little anxious, Hope?"

Hope grinned sheepishly and sat down on the couch at the center of the room. What was wrong with her these days? Why did she believe the young man who had just entered was a Vesper? Honestly. Did she really think Vespers were stupid enough to just skip right onto Cahill Island in broad daylight, where Madrigal agents still lurked?

Hope frowned. No, she wouldn't put it past them. They were pretty risky.

"A penny for your thoughts."

She looked up. "Only a penny, Scott? I feel loved."

He laughed lightly and sat down next to her, pulling out a thick file folder marked, 'HIGHLY DANGEROUS'. "You've seemed preoccupied lately," he said after a pause. "You haven't been over-thinking, have you? We can't have one of our top agent's brain combusting."

She snorted and lightly punched him. "Please."

He opened the folder and rifled through some papers. "Don't be like that. Tell me the truth. What's going on?"

Hope played with the hem of her skirt, chewing her lip. "I just... I don't know. Mom's been pretty tired lately, and I'm worried because it's not like her. I invited her to go laser tagging with a bunch of Cahills the other day -yeah, yeah, don't give me that look, I know they just wanted our clues but I thought it would be fun- and you know what she said?"

Scott pulled out a paper while raising an eyebrow and looking at her at the same time. "What did she say?"

"She said she didn't have the _energy!_" Hope exclaimed, her voice rising an octave. "Since when does Mom not have the _energy? _She never passes an opportunity to humiliate me, even by beating me in laser tag!"

Scott grimaced. "Hope, calm down. You're overreacting. I'm sure Grace is fine."

Her shoulders slumped in response. "I know. I probably am. She tells me not to worry-"

"Then don't," he interrupted. "You know Grace. She is perfectly capable of taking care of herself."

Hope sighed. "Yeah, you're right. She's Mom. She's pretty much indestructible."

He smiled loftily at her. "Of course. We've seen her get through everything. Remember that time in Polynesia?"

Hope nodded, cracking a small smile at the memory. "How could I forget?" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Right. The briefing. That's why you're here."

"Always to business, with you," he grinned and tweaked her nose before showing her a pile of stapled papers.

She felt a blush rise to her cheeks at the contact but pointedly ignored it, glaring down at the papers.

Scott flipped the page and a picture was revealed. "This is the young man that you must watch out for," he said, his voice taking on a darker tone. "He has been sent to spy and you, and now the Madrigals are sending you to do the same."

* * *

**A/N: Finally got around to rewriting this. I wanted to give up the whole thing but then I'd feel like a failure. I'm really sorry about not updating this.**

**The earlier chapters are still going to be really short but I can't help that if I want to stick to my original plot line. They'll become longer as it progresses, I promise. Also, I recommend re-reading the whole thing because somethings have majorly changed.**


	2. Chapter 2

Hope raised her eyebrows. "Him?" she asked incredulously. "You sure about that?"

He certainly didn't look dangerous. He was a slightly bit taller than her, with jet-black hair, and kind eyes. He had a cute smile, and actually looked somewhat… handsome. But then again, there was that old quote, don't judge a book by it's cover. Her own experience with a group of Lucians had taught her that.

Scott drummed his fingers on the desk, lips twirked to one side, frowning. "I know he looks rather, um, appealing to you, but—"

She shut him up with a glare. "Are you underestimating me?"

"Of course not!" he protested. "I just don't want you to fall for his tricks like..." he trailed off.

The air tensed.

"Right," she said curtly. "Like before."

He grabbed her hand and she rose. "Hope, wait. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm just concerned for you," he said quietly.

She didn't look at him, but her expression instantly softened.

He tugged. "Sit."

She complied without a word. Her back was straight and her whole demeanor rigid. She didn't look at him, instead opting for staring hard at the paper and muttering silently, "go on."

He hesitated before continuing. "So, er, I guess this isn't that great of a time to let you know that he's going to be competing against you for a spot on your internship."

Her scowl deepened. "No, it's not. Is he really?"

Scott grimaced. "Unfortunately, though I doubt he will actually stay on for very long. His only purpose for taking this on is to get closer to you -which we know won't happen. He's a math major, probably aiming for a PhD to teach it in universities later on."

"Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn't." She fingered the paper with his picture on it and pulled it onto her lap.

He shot her a tiny smile and reached down to gather the paper in his hands. He lightly flipped through the pages but he stopped after a few seconds, apparently locating the one he needed. "No. It was information. Just remember not to let it slip accidently, not before he actually tells you about himself."

Absent-mindedly, she began to trace the outline of his face. "Like that would happen. I don't plan on getting close to him."

"Hope."

She looked up at the sound of his serious voice to see a grave expression on his face.

"They want you to befriend his, get the location of the Vesper stronghold out of him and bolt." He looked somberly at her and took her hand in his. "I'm really sorry Hope."

She only stared down, with one hand in his and the other at the bottom of the picture, index finger frozen at the chin. "Why?" she said, her voice even and steady. "I mean, they still trust me to do this after-?"

"Of course. It was one screw up, Hope. They're not going to consider that above everything else you've done." He smiled encouragingly down at her. "You'll do great."

She took a deep breath and gave him a small smile. "Yeah. Yeah, thanks. I _will_do awesome. I'm Hope, aren't I?" she weakly joked.

He laughed and pulled her in for a hug. "Don't worry. Everything will work out in the end."

Hope let out a muffled chuckle, wrapping her arms around him and hugging him back. She buried her face in his neck, a warm feeling spreading through her entire body. So maybe they were hugging a little too tightly, but it was okay. They friends and friends hugged like this, right? Yep. All the time.

* * *

Back in America, Grace Cahill was lying down on her bed with pillows propped up on the headboard and her back and head resting on it. A TV was across from the bed, and she sighed tiredly as she idly flipped through the channels. Finally, she came across the baseball game and stopped, dropping the remote beside her.

"Grace," a voice said sharply, accompanied by two quick knocks on her door.

"Come in Beatrice," she called wearily.

The door swung heavily open and a short and skinny woman of fifty entered. A deep and seemingly permanent scowl marred her attractive face. She walked towards the bed and gingerly took a seat at the edge of it. Grace's eyes followed her the whole way.

"How are you, Beatrice?"

She shrugged. "Could be better. What with a crazy sister letting her daughter run off to antarctica for a supposed clue hunt, which coincidentally the fate of the world depends on."

Graces smiled. "Alright then. Did you need anything?"

Beatrice simply looked at her. "You're going to have to tell her eventually."

Grace did not need clarification as to who "her" was. "Yes," she said softly and sadly. "I know."

Beatrice was not satisfied with that answer. "It's been over three months. The sooner the better. You're only hurting her."

"I know," she repeated. "I know. But... but it'll break her heart."

Beatrice closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "You'll do what you have to do," she said shortly. "But do it soon, please, Grace."

She stood and made her way to the door. Before leaving she turned back and said, "I just don't want this family to be more ripped apart than it already is."

Grace leaned back on the pillows and sighed for the second time. "I know that too," she murmured.

* * *

**A/N: Rewritten as of 21/09/12**


	3. Chapter 3

Hope glared at the young man sitting in front of her desk.

He simply stared back at her, his eyebrows raised in amusement. "Why do you hate me so much?"

"I don't _hate_ you," she growled, snatching up a pencil. She pressed down on it, hard, and the lead snapped. "What makes you think that?"

Hart smirked and took a pen from Hope's desk. He twirled it absently. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it was that glare that you were giving me just a moment ago. And that pencil that you broke in frustration? It gave me a hint."

"_Psh._ I don't _hate_ you. It's more of..." she paused for awhile, searching for the right word. "_Despise_. Yes, that's it. I despise you."

He chuckled lightly, as if being despised was as enjoyable as winning the lottery. "And that's so much better than hate."

"Oh, yes." Hope reached for the pen Hart had been playing with, and plucked it from him. "If you don't mind," she said curtly. "You see, despise is a higher level of hate. Hate is slightly less passionate. Below that, you will find acquaintance, and after, actual like. Not that you will ever need to know that stuff. I'm fairly certain that you will stay in despise."

Hart sighed, but looked anything but upset. In fact, he was grinning. "I see. But, I ask you again, why do you hate me so much?"

"Remember what I said earlier? I don't hate you, I despise you."

"Of course. So then, why do you despise me so much?"

"Aren't you here for my job?" Hope asked, glowering at him.

"Why yes, I am. What has that got to do with anything?" Hart leaned towards Hope.

"You, plus stealing my job, equals detest. Understood?"

Hart laughed softly and put his hand over Hope's, which was resting on the desk. "You are the funniest person I have ever met."

Hope smacked him. Hard. "Stop that! Don't touch me!" she snapped. She mentally threw up and imagined the Vespers throwing him out.

Hart looked up innocently at her. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean—" Hope broke off as the door to her office cracked open.

Her boss, Gloria poked her head in. "Hello, love! Are you two becoming well acquainted?"

Hope flashed her a smile, wiping the scowl off her face. "Yes, very well thank you."

Hart was as equally placid. "Hope Cahill is quiet lovely. For instance, did you know that she has levels of relationships?"

Hope flushed, but did not lose her composure. "And did you know that Hart finds twirling pens like a thirteen year-old enjoyable?"

Gloria positively beamed. "Oh, good! You two are getting to know each other! I can't believe that I was actually worried that Hope would hate you!"

Hart smiled wryly at her. "Oh, no. How could sweet, innocent, little Hope Cahill hate someone like me? We are getting along very well. Isn't that right Hope?"

She forced a grin onto her face, nodded, and laughed unconvincingly, something that Gloria always fell for. "Me? Hate? Why would I hate him?"

Gloria giggled and nodded. "Yes, you're right. I shouldn't have worried. Now," she said, briskly changing the subject. "It's time to do some work. For this project, your main task is to research."

"Research what?" Hart inquired curiously.

It took all of Hope's willpower not to slap him across the face. It was _her_ job to ask, not his.

"Our archaeologists have found dinosaur bones in Europe. We wanted to bring them over here, but the Europeans claim that since it was found on their property, it should belong to them."

"Well, technically, it does," Hope interjected pointedly.

"But you're missing the whole purpose! What about the time and effort that we've put in it? We were the ones who found it, not them! It belongs to us!" Gloria argued passionately.

Hope did not respond. She knew better than to argue with Gloria when she became like this. She simply stared up at the ceiling, watching a fly collide into the lights over and over again. She wondered if it was attempting suicide.

Hart, unfortunately, did not know any better. "What would we do with it?"

"We would put it in our museum!"

"Maybe they have a museum that they would like to put it in too."

"But we worked hard on it!"

"They can pay you."

"It belongs to us!" Gloria insisted.

Hart sighed, and to Hope's relief, said nothing more.

"So," she said wearily. "What was it you want us to research?"

Gloria, who was red in the face, took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself. "Yes, yes, the research. I need you two to look up arguments. We want to keep the bones, and we are willing to go to court for their sakes."

"But Gloria," Hope interjected. "I'm not a lawyer. I'm an archaeologist!"

"I realize this. I also understand that Mr. Trenurt over here—" she said his name bitterly, "— is not one either. But we are putting every spare person we have on this."

"Gloria—"

She stood up and walked towards the door. "Just do your best, alright?"

"Gloria, I refuse to work with this person."

She stopped, and turned around slowly. "Hope," she said in an ominous voice. "Do you realize that I am your boss? And that Hart is your rival?"

Hope stiffened. But despite that, she did not show how she felt. She simply nodded carelessly. "Of course I understand that."

"Then, I am sure that you understand how important those bones are to us!" Gloria smiled maliciously. And with that, she left.

Silence.

Then, "she's crazy."

Hope nodded. "You bet she is. She can get like that. Sometimes, I wonder if she's really some Lucian cousin I don't know about…"

Hart raised an eyebrow. "Lucian?"

Hope mentally did a facepalm. How could she have slipped up? And what was she doing, chatting idly with a _Vesper_, for Madeline's sake?

"One of my cousins surnames," she lied smoothly, returning to her curt manner.

Hart nodded, looking suspicious but did not question her. "Well then. I suppose that we should divide the work between ourselves."

She gritted her teeth in response, and abandoned her blunt way of speaking. It was impossible while talking to this guy.

"Fine. I'll research the opposing side, and you do ours," she snapped, hoping that it was clear that he was not going to be the leader.

Hart smiled sweetly. "Of course your majesty."

"Don't call me that!"

"Yes, your majesty."

Hope just groaned and prayed that he would get fired by Gloria, fast…

**A/N: Been awhile since I've updated this, I know. :P But I'm sure none of you suffered. (I think).**

**I tried. I honestly _tried_, okay? Please, please, don't yell at me. But feel free to throw in flamable things into the fire!**

**I think (_THINK_) that all the punctuation is fine. I think the spelling's okay too. But the writing? Nah.**

**Bye!**


	4. Chapter 4

"_You're fired!" Gloria roared. Behind her was a fiery red background that matched her angry expression._

_Tiny Hart, quivering at her feet, bowed. "Please!" he sobbed, petrified. "Don't fire me! The Vesper's will kill me!"_

_Gloria simply laughed maniacally, and grabbed his shirt collar. She threw him out if her office, while Hope watched, a grin slowly creeping onto her face…_

_The scene changed._

_She was standing in the centre of a large bedroom that was simply furnished with a nightstand next to the queen bed, and a dresser in one corner of the room. It was a complete stranger's bedroom, but somehow, she knew that it was her house; hers and her husband's._

_But she did not have a husband._

_The walls were plastered with floral green wallpaper, but it was a much lighter green than usual (she also somehow knew that). There was a light shade of orange, and as she averted her glance towards the door, she saw that there were flames flickering. She ran out of the room._

_Afraid, she let her instincts take over. There was a fire, and she should have been trying to get out of the house, but she found herself walking calmly towards a bedroom across the hall and entering. Inside were two little kids; the first one, a girl that looked like a miniature copy of herself, and the second, a boy no more than three years old, still sleeping._

_The girl looked up at her with big, jade green eyes. "Mommy!" she cried._

_She tried to speak, to tell that adorable little girl that she had it wrong, that she wasn't her mom. But she found that she couldn't…_

Hope woke up with a start. She sat up on her bed, panting and sweating, as if that fire had been real. Looking around at her surroundings, she was relieved to find herself still at home; she could hear the loud humming of the refrigerator a floor down, and water dripping from the leaking tap.

Hope shook herself. _Silly. It was just a nightmare, probably because I stayed up late, reading about the fire that destroyed Gideon and Olivia's house._

Standing up and stretching, she glanced at the clock. It was eight.

She yawned once more, and headed towards the bathroom to do her morning routine.

* * *

"Hart," Hope said, trying not to ground her teeth, "please. Don't."

He grinned at her. "Don't what?"

"Kindly step away from me, before I am forced to pulverize you. I'm a black belt." She could smell his cologne, and as much as she hated to admit it, it smelled good.

"That's quite intimidating."

"Quite."

"But I don't think I will."

"And why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

Hope shoved him away with such force, that it was enough to send Eisenhower Holt packing. Then, she whacked his head and he fell.

"Ow! What was that for?" Hart complained, struggling to stand up.

"For being such a dope," she answered bluntly. But shoving him down was so… Tomas of her, and she instantly felt guilty.

So Hope did the only thing she could think of— she offered him her hand.

He stared at it suspiciously. "Are you wearing one of those shocker things that clowns own?"

Hope glared at him, and dropped her hand. "You really are an idiot. Though," she added as an after thought, "that is a pretty good idea…"

"I shouldn't have spoken," Hart muttered. He stood up so suddenly, that he knocked Hope down. He glanced at her. "Karma."

Hope just glared up at him.

Sighing, Hart pulled her back up. "How's the research going?"

"Do. Not. Touch. Me," Hope growled, staggering on her feet. She brushed a non-existent speck of dirt off of her pants. "And I should be the one to ask you that."

"It's going perfectly well. You really shouldn't be worried about me."

"I wasn't."

"Ouch."

Hope threw her hands up in exasperation. This guy could really get on her nerves. "Why am I even here? If our job is to research, then why do I have to go to work?"

Hart smiled slowly, and sweetly. "Why, to see me of course."

"Will you stop being such a conceited twit!" Hope exploded. She gave him the best glare that she could manage, snatched her research off her desk, and attempted to walk out the door. "Good day to you, Hart!"

A moment later, he answered cheerfully, "you too your majesty!"

* * *

"Mom, please, please, _please_, let me quit a mission just this once!" Hope begged. She was inside her mother's bedroom, stroking a newborn kitten that still had the appearance of a rat.

"Hope," Grace said, trying to reason with her. "I don't understand why you hate this guy so much."

"He's a _Vesper_!"

"That's a prejudice," Grace responded quietly, but firmly.

"He's so conceited and sure of himself!"

Grace sighed. "He was sent to spy on you, Hope, not the other Madrigal agents."

"And he does that by hitting on me? Not fun."

"He has a mission, you have a mission. You can't change that."

Hope put the cat on the bed, and stood up, preparing to pace the floor. She stayed silent for a long while, and just when Grace thought that she wasn't going to answer, Hope asked a question that was completely off topic.

"What's his name?"

Grace raised an eyebrow delicately. "Who's name? Hart?"

Hope waved it off impatiently. "Not him. I meant the cat."

Grace glanced at the rat-like animal sleeping on a blanket. Even as a baby, it already had a strong, defiant look to it. It reminded Grace of someone related to the Tomas', someone who had fought bravely, and showed mercy to his enemies.

"Saladin," she finally responded. "His name is Saladin."

**A/N: Hehehe, so not my best chapter (sheepish grin). I think I might have a few mistakes, so please point them out, and I will fix them- whenever I'm not lazy.**

**Thanks to all my reviewers, and especially Lapulta, my beta who is temporarily (it better be temporary!) on vacation. I thank you all!**

**Sy; I'll fix the little Madeleine (is that how you spell it?) error later on... Thanks for the review!**

**Starbuckslover; Send me a PM on your account, please? My search button's screwed up...**

**Lieutenant Evergreen; Thank you! That's a lot of 'pleases'! :P**

**Muse; I forgot to mention this last time, but Hope isn't seventeen. It just states that she did those things at seventeen. I'm sorry, I should have made it clearer.**

**Okay, so now tell me, do you think that Hope was being a little... over dramatic? I'm kind of insecure about that! ^^**

**P.S. Little advertising right here: If you liked the italics part (I'm sure you didn't, but just in case...), then you might want to read my other story, "The School of Mary Sues". I'm not sure if it's any good.**


	5. Chapter 5

Scott sat back luxuriously and put his feet up on the table. He scowled as he flipped idly through the newspaper pages. There was nothing, nothing at all about the museum incident last week.

A couple of Vesper agents had broken into the Madrigal stronghold— _again_. Grace was crazily ordering defence systems from an Ekaterina double agent, hoping to tighten the security. Scott did not see the point in them. As far as he was concerned, the Vespers could fool any device into thinking (if mechanisms could think) that they were the Madrigals.

Hope had called the police, informing them of this, but she had told them that the stronghold was a museum with valuable artefacts. They had questioned her cover story, asking how on earth a museum had been built here without their knowledge. Hope had smiled winningly at them, and said that it was a private museum.

"There's no point in looking," a voice behind him spoke. "We bribed the news to keep out of our business."

Scott folded the newspaper, and put it neatly down on the table. He looked up at Hope. "And they agreed to that?"

Hope smiled dryly. "Well, no, not at first. It took several— ah, threats before they agreed to co-operate."

He chuckled in response. "How Lucian of you."

She shrugged. "There was no other option." She walked to the couch, and sat next to Scott. "Grace is trying her best, but to be honest, I don't think that there's much we can do to keep them out."

Scott said nothing. He stared at the newspaper unblinkingly.

"Do you think," Hope continued, "that Hart was one of them?"

Scott shrugged and turned to face her. "You could interrogate him, I suppose. You've been trained to coax lies out of everyone." He suddenly smiled. "And you're very good at it too."

Hope rolled her eyes, though she was turning several shades of red. "Aren't we all."

Scott stood up and stretched. "I'd better go. Grace would have our heads if she caught us alone."

"That's my mom alright."

Smiling once again, Scott walked out the door.

* * *

"How is the mission coming along?" the man, hiding in the shadows inquired. Hart had never seen his face. Whenever the Vespers asked for a report, they always sent this man, the man who could never be seen. If Hart was being honest, he wasn't sure if he wanted to anyways.

"Well."

Hart could tell that the man raised his eyebrows. "Funny, I was informed that she, ah, despises you."

Hart smirked. "Ever read any of those love-hate relationship stories? It's kind of like that."

"Please," the man sighed, "do not tell me that you actually like her."

Hart thought about that for a moment. "She's definitely… interesting."

"The Vesper's have power," the man warned. "Just remember that."

They departed, and the wind carried their conversation away.

**A/N: Super short chapter, but neccesary. Anyways, some books have short chapters.**

**I'm back from vacation, which, by the way, was tiring. I kind of rushed this, so I know it's not all that good, but I figure you guys deserved an update. Not that anyone would have wanted to read this...**

**MOVING ON! There's nothing else. Mistakes, yes, badness, yes.**

**~SG^^**


	6. Chapter 6

"No way."

"Why not?"

"I'd rather become a—"

"Become a what?"

"I was getting to that."

"Please?"

Hope didn't bother looking up from the book. She impatiently brushed off some dust that covered a paragraph of it as Hart looked over her shoulder. During the past week, it hadn't been just about the project at hand; it had been about annoying her.

Hart sighed. "Just tell me why."

"I told you. I'd rather become a—"

"Become…"

"You keep interrupting me!"

He took a seat next to her and thought about it for a moment. "Yes, I suppose I do… but you know it's only because I try to make you despise me less."

"And it's working very well!"

Hope shot him a quick glare before returning to her notes. "Why don't you actually work and stop slacking off like a baboon?"

"A baboon? How very mature of you."

"I love you too! Now get to work!"

Hart reached for a book in Hope's tall pile. "You do? How sweet."

"You know what I meant…"

He smirked at her and flipped idly through the pages. _He wasn't actually serious about this job,_ Hope thought. _It's just a way to get through me. I can get him fired easily enough._ She smiled at the thought. But he was a Vesper. Vesper's were cunning— more than the Lucian's were and that was saying something. He would probably find some other Vesperian (she knew that wasn't a word) way to snatched information out of her.

"I have an idea," Hart said. He grinned at her. "We go to the Orioles verses Red Sox game tomorrow. If the Orioles win, I'll let you be the boss of this project."

"As if I wasn't already," Hope muttered. But he had her interest.

He ignored her. "But if the Red Sox win— I'm sure that they will, you've got no hope— then you have to agree to this."

Hope looked at him, considering. She _was_ dying to find out which team would triumph over the other. The tickets were too expensive for her but if the Vesper's were paying for it… She was almost certain that they would. After all, it was a chance for Hart to coax Cahill secrets out of her.

But then, it could have been a trap. Vesper's might as well be planning her death this very moment. And if she lost? There was no way she would agree on the condition.

"I'll also stop harassing you," Hart offered.

That was it. That made her decide.

"Deal!" She grinned for the first time that day. She didn't care if it was a trap, she'd just have to be extra careful. Getting Hart to stop bugging her was like a golden ticket to Willy Wonka's chocolate factory!

She closed the book with a loud _thump_ and dust flew. Hope picked up her towering stack and headed towards the door.

"And by the way, they _will_ win!"

* * *

That night, Hope had the same dream as the week before. But this time, it lasted longer.

_Once again, she was standing in the centre of a large bedroom that was simply furnished with a nightstand next to the queen sized bed, and a dresser in one corner of the room. It was a complete stranger's bedroom, but somehow, she knew that it was her house; hers and her husband's._

_The walls were still plastered with floral green wallpaper, but it was a much lighter green than usual. She glanced towards the door again, and saw flames. She ran out of the room._

_She wasn't afraid now— she knew it was just a dream. But nonetheless, she let her instincts take over. She walked into the same bedroom she had a week ago. Inside, the a girl that looked like a miniature copy of herself, and the boy no more than three years old were still there._

_The girl looked up at her with big, jade green eyes. "Mommy!" she cried (again)._

_She tried to speak, to tell that adorable little girl that she had it wrong, that she wasn't her mom. But she found that she couldn't._

_Instead, she took her hand and gently woke the boy up. "It's going to be alright," she murmured to them soothingly and placed a wet towel over each of their mouths. She hadn't realized that she was carrying them until then._

_They rushed downstairs. She was just about to herd them out the door when the girl pulled her towards her study._

"_Daddy!" she cried._

_She was dragged into the room and—_

She woke up. She let out a frustrated breath. "Who is it for heavens sake?"

Hope sat up and stared at the ceiling, frowning. "Stupid dream…"

* * *

"You said you'd stop harassing me." Hope glowered at him.

He smiled. "Only if your team wins, you know that."

She growled. "Do you have the tickets or not?"

Hart looked innocently down on her. "No 'please'?"

"No."

"Well, I do. "

"Good."

"Oh, come on, not even a thank you?" Hope's only response was to glare.

Hart back down with a smirk. "Alright, alright. I'll pick you up tonight."

"No. I'll meet you there."

"Deal."

* * *

**A/N: Don't tell me that this was a short chapter and a bad one, because I already know that. It's a filler.**

**And don't expect me to update for awhile. I'm waiting for some brilliant flash of inspiration… waiting…**

**Thanks for reading! (Whether you like it or not) And please, leave a review.**

**~SG^^**


	7. Chapter 7

Hope regretted agreeing to this bet.

Oh, sure. Getting rid of Arthur? Good. Showing him who was boss? Even better. But if she _lost?_She didn't want to think about those consequences.

And he was a Vesper! A cunning, sly, devious little Vesper! He probably had some kind of plan behind it all! And even if she won, there was no telling what other tricks he had to get to her and her precious clues.

There was no point in wallowing in self-pity, she knew. Here she was now, sitting amongst the screaming fans next to Arthur.

She almost sighed. The game was not going as well as she expected. Her team- _her precious Orioles-_were getting beaten badly by the Red Sox. She glared at him. His stupid team.

He, in return, smiled smugly back at her.

She did not want to strangle him. She wanted to murder him. And if it wasn't for the fact that she was a Madrigal and they were peace-makers and all that, she would have. In a slow and painful way.

Hope scowled as the Red Sox scored yet another goal.

"I guess we know who wins," he said nonchalantly. As if it wasn't a matter between life or death.

"Not so fast," she growled back. "The game's only three quarters over. Just watch. The Orioles _will_beat them." She said this with more confidence than she felt.

"Of course, of course," he replied soothingly.

_Soothingly._

_That little-!_

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the irrational anger swirling inside of her.

"Hey, if you want to express your frustration, go ahead. I'm not stopping you."

"No," Hope answered curtly. "I will not be bested by the likes of you."

Arthur pulled back his _[stupid] _Red Sox hat. "Going Medieval now, are we?"

"It's not we," she gritted her teeth. "It's me."

"Yes, you are absolutely right," Arthur replied as one would to a stubborn child.

She could not take this anymore.

"That's it!" she rose and towered over him. "I'm calling the bet off!"

He raised his eyebrows as a frown etched itself onto his face. "Hope," he said firmly. "A bet is a bet. Are you really chickening out just because you're going to lose?"

She said nothing, because, what was there to say? He was right. He had reminded her that she needed to face the consequences, Vespers or not.

Stupid, incompetent _moron_.

He gently tugged on her arm, seemingly surprised when she didn't snap at him for that. "Sit down."

She sat.

"So you admit that my team is better than yours, right?"

She was back up again in a flash. "I'm going to the bathroom!" she glowered at him.

Fuming, she made her way up the bleachers with surprising ease. Everyone who stood in her way expertly swerved themselves off to the side. One even gave her a look of terror. She mentally groaned. She must have been in a really bad mood today. Trying to put more placid and friendly features on her face, she grinned. Unfortunately, that only earned her more terrified looks and soon she gave up and just opted for a blank poker face.

After reaching the top and walking back down to the other side of the game, she ducked her head and swiftly jogged to the bathroom.

_The loo, Scott would have called it._

She was on her way back to the game when someone roughly grabbed her elbow right outside the bathroom door. She looked left. There was the bathroom corridor. She looked right. The entrance to the game. There were no people. _Of course not, it's the final quarter of the game, why would there be people? _She was about to screamed but was spun around and forced to meet her captors eyes. Hope found funny for a Vesper Kidnapper. Usually, they don't want you catching even a glimpse of them.

That led her to one conclusion. She was about to die. In an incredibly painful way.

Panic settled in before logic did and she began to kick and flail wildly.

"Hope, calm down," a masculine voice hissed. "It's only me. Oh, stop it for heavens sakes!"

The grip on her arm tightened and she could barely muffle a cry of pain.

"Sorry," the pressure was quickly released. "Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt-"

_Bang._

"We have to go," she now recognized the speaker as Arthur. He was pale and seemed frightened.

A Vesper. Frightened.

That meant that she should have been terrified beyond her nightmares. Yet as he pulled her along towards who-knows-where, she couldn't help but feel relaxed. Safe, even. At least someone she knew was there.

Who was a Vesper.

When that thought clicked in, she stopped running abruptly and wrenched her arm from his grip. Why was she doing what a Vesper told her to? What part of _evil, cruel and heartless murderer_did she not understand?

_Pretty much all of it,_a small and betraying voice whispered at the back of her mind.

Hope shook her head. Vesper. Right. Vesper. She was a Madrigal, he was a Vesper. There was currently some unknown danger out there, chasing them. She could handle this. She was trained for this.

Arthur jogged back up to Hope and more or less dragged her onwards. "We have to hurry!" his tone was urgent.

"Wait!" she snapped, punching him lightly on the shoulder to get him to release her arm. "Why should I listen to anything you-"

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Gunshots.

Hope squeaked. She let Arthur rush her out the door and once they were out into the streets, he flagged a cab.

Hope shakily stared out the window. Hundreds of people were milling about, going through their daily lives.

Normal. Everything was normal.

She glanced at Arthur who stared ahead in deep thought.

She poked him tentatively. "Hey."

He spared her a look. "What?"

What?_ What?_ Someone was shooting at them (more importantly, at him, one of their own) and all he could say was _what?_

"You know," she said.

"Yeah, well, I can't tell you who they are," he muttered shortly.

"Well then tell me how you there was danger."

He shrugged. "I have a radar for these kind of things."

Right. A Vesper Radar.

She had several other questions to ask but at that moment, the taxi pulled to a halt. She looked out the window.

"You're house," he said, starting to grin a little. "Just in case you didn't know."

Hope expected to feel like clobbering him, as she always did.

But instead, she smiled. "Right," she replied lightly. "I know."

Arthur was so surprised, he was at loss for what to say. She was out of the car before he could respond.

"Oh," he called as she walked up to her house. "By the way, I'm sorry about all this."

She laughed and waved it off. "No problem. I'm used to it."

She left him stunned. She had laughed.

_Laughed._

After almost dying.

Arthur shook his head. Women. He would never understand them.

* * *

**A/N: *Dodges banana peels and apple cores* I know what you're thinking. _She hasn't updated this in forever and now she comes back with _this_ piece of garbage?_**

**Nrg. Sowwys.**

**Truth is, I hate this story. I would delete it but them I'd feel like scum. So I'll finish it, I swear I will. Updates will probably _(probably) _happen more often.**

**Please review? :D**

**~SG^^**

**EDIT: Someone reviewed and pointed out a HUGE mistake that I over looked. (I know I over looked a lot of grammatical stuff and I promise I'll look at them when I have the time.) _How did Hope know Arthur's real name?_**

**_*Slams head on keyboard* _DU'H. I'm so sorry, guys. I wrote this late at night after doing some massive spring cleaning and homework. I _thought_ everything was alright after reading it over, but with a dead brain on your side, things aren't always as they seem.**

**Thus, my resolve to re-write. Somewhat.**

**Back to the point. I tweaked and changed chapter two a little bit to make everything sort of, kinda okay. It fits.**

**I'll edit all the chapters. Pinky swear.**

**~SG^^**

**PS. A shout-out to the people that reviewed, especially the one with sharp eyes. Thanks, guys!**


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